


With a Little Help from My Friends

by celeste9



Category: Primeval
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Drunkenness, Fic Exchange, First Kiss, Friendship, Humor, M/M, Matchmaking, Motorcycles, Oblivious, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-26
Updated: 2012-07-26
Packaged: 2017-11-10 19:22:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/469789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team feel that Becker's social life is sadly lacking and take it upon themselves to remedy the situation. Becker is a bit slow to catch on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With a Little Help from My Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by fredbassett. Written for smaragdbird for the 2011 Primeval Denial Secret Santa fic exchange using the prompt matchmaking and hopefully incorporating snarking and being a team. Title from The Beatles.

Becker didn’t think much of it at first.

For the first few months of his posting to the ARC, he and the civilians had mostly stayed separate. That was perfectly fine with Becker-- not that there was anything wrong with them, besides the fact that they were all a bit... weird, but he had no particular desire for socialisation. Still, as time went on, he didn’t think it was all that odd when they started to try to engage him more. He suspected it was mostly curiosity.

So he put up with their questions and their pestering. It was even a little bit amusing, to watch them try to puzzle him out. Becker knew he had a particular knack for keeping a straight face while saying outrageous things, so he sometimes made shit up just to see the looks on their faces. Connor was the most fun, because he couldn’t keep what he was thinking off his face for anything.

It was starting to get irritating, however. He couldn’t go a day without hearing, “Becker, what are you up to tonight?” or “Don’t you have a girlfriend?” or “Why are you still here?”

Or, right now, for example, Connor was sitting on the counter in the kitchen, legs dangling, and saying, “Don’t tell me you worked all weekend _again_.”

Ignoring him, Becker watched his water boil. All he had wanted was to have a cup of tea. Was it too much to ask to be able to do that without being bothered?

“You’re a lot different from what I thought you’d be like, Becker.”

He knew he shouldn’t ask, but he did anyway. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, you know.” Connor gestured expansively with his hands, as though Becker was fluent in geek body language. “The way you look, you’re so… With your big guns and your perfect hair and your stoic lack of expression. And, of course, your uniform, all that black, the tight shirts and the trousers that make your arse look amazing.”

“You enjoy looking at my arse then, Connor?”

Connor didn’t even miss a beat. “Come on, you’re asking people to stare at it with those trousers. And then when you put on the thigh strap…”

Becker suppressed the reflex to look over his shoulder and try to get a glimpse of his arse. Surely Connor was exaggerating. He couldn’t help the way his trousers were cut, could he? And sometimes he liked to have the thigh strap, it was useful. “Was there a point to all this?”

“Yeah, right, getting to it. It’s just that you’re not what you seem. You’ve got no social life to speak of and you spend more time here than anyone except for maybe Lester.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Becker said, staring intently at the stream of water pouring into his cup. When Connor said it like that, it sounded pathetic.

“It’s a bit of a relief, actually. You’re far less intimidating when I know you’re as hapless as me in the personal life department.”

Fuck no, Connor was not putting them into the same category. “I can still kill you with only my hands, you know.”

“Right.” Connor hopped down onto the floor, not nearly as impressed as he should have been. “Cheers, mate.”

Becker spent the next hour taking out his aggression on a punch bag.

He wasn’t as bad as all that, was he? He wasn’t unhappy, he wasn’t lonely or anything. It was only that… Honestly Becker didn’t know how anyone at the ARC managed a social life. It wasn’t as though the anomalies stuck to appearing Monday - Friday, 9 - 5. And with Christine Johnson nosing around, the extra work Becker put in on ARC security was absolutely necessary.

The truth of the matter was, if on a Saturday night Becker found himself free and available, he was usually too knackered to be bothered with going out. Sure, he would have liked to lose himself in another warm body but that required so much energy that he just didn’t have. So if his free evenings generally consisted of Becker on his sofa in front of the television with a couple of beers, he didn’t think it was anyone’s business but his own.

Unfortunately, his colleagues continued to want to make it their business. Take Friday evening, for example.

Becker had just finished changing out of his uniform and was about to head home for the night when Sarah walked into the locker room. She smiled at him. “Hi, Becker. Big plans for the weekend?”

He considered making something up just to shut her up, but he was tired, his knee was throbbing from an awkward fall he’d taken yesterday, and he’d spent half an hour getting talked down to by Lester so his mind was still pretty much shut down. He really just wanted to go home and relax in front of the rugby match. So he said so.

“We need to find you a girlfriend,” Sarah muttered and Becker looked at her askance. “Oh, I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

Becker raised an eyebrow.

She tilted her head consideringly, her gaze sweeping over him from head to toe and back up again. She lingered on the tight T-shirt he suddenly felt irrationally self-conscious wearing as well as his hair (he only barely stopped himself from reaching a hand up to smooth it). “Boyfriend?”

Becker walked out.

-

Becker had to admit to a small amount of surprise when Abby showed up in his office. He hadn’t thought any of them even realised he had an office, let alone knew where it was. She shifted a stack of forms and leaned her hip against his desk. “Are you busy tonight, Becker? Because we’re going out for drinks and I thought you might like to join us.”

That certainly wasn’t what he had expected to hear. “Oh, well, I think I’m just going to get some work done here. We’ve had some new cameras installed and I’d like to see how they work.”

“With Danny, you mean?”

“I suppose so, yes.”

“Then I can tell you you’ll be on your own, because Danny’s coming to the pub with us.”

Becker fervently hoped he didn’t look disappointed because that would have been pathetic. “That’s all right. I’ve got some other things I need to work on, anyway.”

“Becker, you do realise that the ARC won’t fall apart if you go out for a night, right?”

 _Yes, it seems to fall apart just fine even when I’m here,_ Becker felt like saying, but of course he didn’t. “I don’t think that much of myself, no, Abby, but I do actually have a job around here.”

“And we don’t? It’s not wrong to need a break. Just come for a few hours. I promise we aren’t terrible company.” She smiled at him, wheedling, and if Becker had been Connor, he would have been leaping at the chance to please her.

Luckily (for so, so many reasons) Becker wasn’t Connor. “I’m sure you aren’t, but I really... Some other time, maybe.”

Abby sighed. “I can’t force you, I suppose.” She moved to leave and then threw over her shoulder, “Lester wants to see you, by the way.”

Becker barely suppressed a groan. On his way to Lester’s office, he wracked his brains in an attempt to come up with anything Lester might want to yell at him for. Maybe he’d got to the requisitions form Becker had filed for new weaponry. He really didn’t think it had been unreasonable, but Lester didn’t see things quite the same as Becker did.

He rapped three times on Lester’s door and then went in. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

Lester looked oddly uncomfortable, folding his arms over the desk in front of him. “Ah, Becker, yes. I’ve just been going over the, ah, the schedule and so forth, and it’s come to my attention that you’ve been logging in quite a lot of hours recently.”

“I do try to do a good job, sir. That is why you hired me, isn’t it?”

“Yes, of course. But you’re no good to us if you’re burned out, are you?”

Becker bristled slightly at the perceived slight. “I assure you, I’m nowhere near my limits.”

“That’s all very well, but a weekend off can only be to the benefit of all concerned parties. Your shift tomorrow has been canceled and you are no longer on-call; nor do I want to hear from any of the staff that you were here working on your... extra-curricular activities with Quinn.” That last was said with a carefully arched eyebrow.

“With all due respect--”

“I’ve arranged for Jake Hemple to cover for you. He is quite capable of managing things, I should think.”

“Yes, but--”

“Who do you take your orders from, Captain?”

Becker gritted his teeth. “You, sir.”

“So if I tell you to take the weekend off, shouldn’t you do as I say?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, good. I am glad that we’re in agreement.” Lester waved his hand towards the door. “Do run along now.”

Becker turned smartly on his heel but halted when Lester spoke again. “A ‘thank you’ wouldn’t be entirely amiss.”

He closed his eyes and took a few seconds to compose himself before facing Lester. “Thank you, sir, for thinking of me. It was very kind of you.”

Lester narrowed his eyes suspiciously but Becker simply turned back around and walked out. Before he could second-guess himself, he stopped by Abby’s lab, poking his head in and saying, “Is that offer still open?”

-

It really wasn’t so bad, going to the pub with his teammates. Maybe Becker shouldn’t have resisted getting to know them so much. And he did dare to hope that perhaps now, after this, they would ease up on the pestering.

Or perhaps not. Connor sat down next to Becker, blocking him off from everyone else. “So you and Danny have been spending a lot of time together.”

Becker shifted a little away from him. “I spend a lot of time with all of you. That’s what happens when people work together.”

Connor blithely ignored Becker’s tone. “Yeah, but you’re with Danny out of hours, too.”

“To go over security.”

“You never ask anyone else to come in and help you with security.”

“That’s because Danny is the only one I trust to be mad enough to think of absolutely everything.” _And at least fifty percent of the time, I certainly am not ‘asking’ Danny for his ‘help’._

“That... makes a lot of sense, actually. But you guys get on, right?”

“Well enough. Better if he would actually listen to me once in a while and not go haring off like an insane person.”

“Cool,” Connor said and Becker couldn’t put his finger on exactly why, but he didn’t like the way Connor was grinning at him. “Good talk, Becker. I’ll get you another pint.” And he disappeared before Becker could say that he hadn’t even finished the one he was drinking yet.

So Becker did the only sensible thing and drained the rest of his beer.

It was the strangest thing, but as the night went on, Becker got the distinct impression that his friends… colleagues… whatever, were trying to get him shit-faced. Which was frankly ridiculous, because Becker’s alcohol tolerance was fairly impressive. Still, it seemed like whenever he turned around he had a full drink shoved into his hand and while he certainly wasn’t drunk, he was feeling a little buzzed.

Pleasantly buzzed, in fact. Becker couldn’t remember the last time he had let himself relax like this. He wondered if it would be rude to leave the others and see if he couldn’t find someone to get off with.

Of course, to do that he would have to shake Danny. Danny, who seemed to have plastered himself to Becker’s side like he was... Becker didn’t even know what. If he didn’t know any better, he would have suspected Sarah, Abby, and Connor of planning it this way.

But that was even more ridiculous than them trying to get him drunk. Why would they want him to be stuck with Danny?

It wasn’t too terrible, though. When Becker wasn’t overcoming the urge to strangle him, Danny wasn’t bad company. He had a sense of humour, at least, even if Becker didn’t appreciate being the butt of it.

Becker checked the time, surprised by how late it was. He scanned the area. “What happened to the others?”

Danny had an irritating habit of continually looking like he was laughing. At least he did when he was with Becker. “They left a while ago, now. Didn’t you notice? Or were you so caught up with my brilliant conversation?”

Now that he thought about it, it had been some time since Becker had spoken to anyone besides Danny. And, no, not because Danny was so utterly fascinating.It had simply happened that way. “It’s kind of rude, isn’t it? To leave without saying goodbye?”

“I’ll be sure to let them know you were offended. I suppose your manners are perfect, are they? You’ve got public school written all over you. I bet you were Head Boy.”

Becker ignored him in favour of finishing his drink. For once, he didn’t have a full one already at hand.

“They did say goodbye to me, anyway.” Danny pushed back his stool. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“Excuse me?”

“You shouldn’t drive, Becker. You can sleep at my flat and I’ll drive you back here tomorrow to pick up your car.”

Becker wasn’t entirely sure which aspect appalled him the most-- having to accept help from Danny Quinn, having to sleepin Danny’s flat, or the fact that he could have unknowingly drunk enough to not be able to get himself home. “I’m perfectly capable of driving myself home.”

Danny was watching him sceptically. “How much have you had to drink?”

That was a stupid... Bollocks, how much _had_ he drunk? He couldn’t remember. “Not a bloody clue,” he admitted.

“I think it’s fair to say that if you can’t remember how many beers you’ve had, you had too many to drive.”

“It isn’t my fault! You kept shoving them at me, what was I supposed to do?”

“Aren’t you a little too old to be succumbing to peer pressure?”

“I think you did it on purpose. You wanted to get me pissed, all of you. You wanted to see me do something embarrassing. Well, I promise you it takes a lot more than a few pints for me to make a fool of myself.” Becker straightened his back in an effort to make himself as tall as possible, which would have been a lot more impressive had he been talking to one of the girls, or even Connor.

Danny patted him on the shoulder in a friendly, commiserating sort of way. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

Becker pushed his hand away, thinking back over the night’s events. He hadn’t done anything embarrassing, had he? Oh, sod it. He was making a bit of a fool of himself right now, wasn’t he? “Fine, whatever.”

“Knew you’d come around. And don’t worry, your virtue’s safe with me. I’ve a nice, big sofa you’re welcome to.”

“How reassuring. I was terribly worried I’d have to fend you off in my weakened state.” Becker followed Danny out of the door.

But Danny didn’t lead him to a car. “You rode your bike here?”

“Course I did,” Danny said, rubbing the seat with inappropriate fondness. “I take her everywhere.”

“I’m not getting on that.” Bad enough to have to accept a ride, there was no way in hell he was getting on the back of a motorbike with Danny fucking Quinn.

Danny tossed Becker a helmet. “Sure you are. Unless you’re scared? I wouldn’t have thought it of you, but you never can tell.”

“I most certainly am not scared. I’ve ridden a motorcycle before.”

“Then hop right on,” Danny said as he slid onto the seat.

Becker sighed. There was no way he could refuse now without seeming like a girl. He swung a leg over and sat behind Danny, feeling the warm length of him through his clothes. Becker wrapped his arms around Danny’s waist and mentally cursed Danny, Abby, Lester, and everyone he could even remotely blame for putting him in this ridiculous situation (up to and including the man who had recommended him to Lester for this posting in the first place-- a favour his arse).

“Oi, soldier boy, loosen the grip a little, will you?” Danny complained. “I need my organs to remain uncrushed.”

If Becker felt a vindictive thrill of pleasure at that, he thought it only fair. Danny bloody deserved it.

-

When Becker woke up, he was on an unfamiliar sofa in an unfamiliar room, with the pervading smell of frying bacon and brewing coffee in the air. He also had an urgent need to piss. He sat up, the beginnings of a headache pounding behind his eyes, and found a glass of water with two tablets of what he supposed must be aspirin near at hand. Well, that was more thoughtful than he would have expected from Quinn. He swallowed the pills and half the water, contemplating whether he might be able to duck out unseen and spare himself the awkwardness. Then he remembered exactly why he was in Danny Quinn’s flat and resigned himself to his fate.

He located the bathroom first, then followed the smell of bacon into the kitchen, where he found Danny making not just bacon, but eggs, sausage, and toast as well. His stomach did a little flip at the sight of it. Maybe he’d drunk more than he’d thought.

Danny only barely glanced at him when he came in. “Morning, sunshine,” he said cheerfully.

Becker cringed inside but didn’t let anything show on his face. “All this for me? You shouldn’t have.”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t. But I guess it would be rude not to offer you anything, maybe I can spare a sausage or two.”

“There are four eggs, Danny.”

Danny grinned. “So there are. That’s lucky.” He piled the food onto two plates and handed one to Becker, along with a mug of hot coffee. Catching the expression on Becker’s face, he added, “Nothing better after a night of drinking than a big greasy breakfast.”

Becker scowled at him. “I know how to deal with a hangover. And I don’t have one, anyway.”

“Whatever you say.”

Becker tightened his grip on his plate as he followed Danny to the dining room. It probably would have been difficult to explain away his food ending up in Danny’s face as an accident.

-

“Hey. Hey, Becker,” Connor was calling from several metres away, jogging down the corridor to catch up with Becker, Abby trailing in his wake. “Danny wants to play poker, you interested?”

“What, you mean now? In the middle of the day?”

Connor shrugged, his lips curving into a sheepish smile. “Consider it a tea break?”

“Don’t even try to take the high ground, Becker,” Abby said, her eyes laughing. “As if you don’t spend half the day with the guns.”

“That’s just good sense,” Becker insisted. They didn’t clean themselves, after all.

“If it helps you decide, Connor is absolute rubbish at poker. You could win a fortune off him.”

Connor spluttered some sort of reply, whether in the negative or affirmative Becker had no idea.

Truthfully, Becker didn’t need much convincing to agree to poker. He was brilliant at it. And, yes, he was also fairly bored. “Well, I am a bit short on cash,” he said.

And thus began their regular poker game. They played in the break room, with cups of tea, so theoretically they were only taking a tea break, which was certainly allowed. Lester had walked in on it once, frowned rather severely, and made a cutting remark, but he hadn’t even tried to stop them.

They played a few times a week. Generally, it was only Becker with Danny and Connor-- Abby didn’t care much for the game and Sarah liked only to watch on occasion. And soon enough, it was just Becker and Danny. Connor was every bit as rubbish as Abby had claimed, and he started to beg out of it, saying he couldn’t afford to keep losing to them. Sarah stopped coming by to watch and so it was just… Becker and Danny.

It all happened naturally enough, but Becker didn’t fail to notice the looks that passed between everyone when they thought he wasn’t paying attention (Becker was always paying attention). Becker had long since learned to be suspicious of seemingly natural events.

Particularly when his colleagues were involved.

-

By all accounts, the creature incursion should have gone off without a hitch. The dinosaurs that came through (Connor had named them, but as far as Becker was concerned they were the ones with the heads that looked like they were designed for head-butting) were herbivorous and seemed content to wander harmlessly through the field they’d ended up in. Becker wasn’t even tempted to shoot them. Not yet, anyway. The only difficulty was figuring out how to usher them back through the anomaly.

Becker really should have known better than to expect things to proceed without any problems.

Before Becker was completely certain as to what was happening, Danny had apparently decided to attract the attention of the herd and then get them to follow him through the anomaly. Unfortunately for Danny, the dinosaurs were easily startled and could run a good deal faster than he had bargained on. Unable to think of anything better, Becker launched himself at Danny and catapulted them down a sharp incline, where they rolled to a stop just out of reach of the stampeding dinosaurs.

He took a moment to catch his breath to ensure he would be able to devote his full lung capacity to shouting at Danny. “You fucking idiot, Quinn, what were you thinking? Were you even thinking? Because that has to have been the most idiotic plan in the history of idiotic plans.”

“Aw, Becker, I didn’t know you cared,” Danny said, smiling insouciantly.

The fucking bastard was _squirming_ underneath him and Becker got back up to his feet, making sure to push up off Danny’s chest so the other man winced. “What the hell is wrong with you? It’s like you don’t have a single instinct for self-preservation in your entire body.”

“I’d like to think it’s more that I’m charmingly reckless.”

“‘Charming’ is almost certainly the last word I would ever associate with you. And this was far beyond reckless. In what world would using yourself as bait ever be a viable option?”

“Hey, it was a spur of the moment sort of thing, I didn’t have much time. Otherwise I’m sure I would have got a vehicle first.” Danny backtracked a little as Becker’s glare intensified. “Besides, it’s not like they’re dangerous, they eat plants.”

“Yes, but they don’t need to be carnivores in order to trample you to death. Not to mention their domed skulls would be perfect for ramming your stupid head in.”

“I think you might be overreacting. Everything turned out all right, didn’t it? Dinosaurs are back through the anomaly, no one died, and I’m not even hurt. Well, aside from a bruised arse, maybe.”

Sometimes Becker thought about marching straight into Lester’s office and resigning. What was the point of being here if no one would listen to him? If they wanted to get themselves killed, well, who was he to stop them? Let Lester find some other poor sod to deal with this mess; Becker would be happy to give him a few recommendations. Becker would rather take his chances in Afghanistan, honestly. “It’s like I’m not even here,” Becker muttered. “No one ever fucking listens to me and somehow _I’m_ the bad guy for trying to protect you all. What the fuck is the point of me being here?”

“But if you left, who would stand around in the background holding a shotgun and looking threatening?” Danny considered for a few seconds and then added, “As threatening as you can look with a face like that, anyway. Have you considered getting a scar? It would do a lot for that tough guy image you’re trying to maintain.”

Becker closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _One… two… three… four… five._ When he opened his eyes, Danny was still there, but the desire to chuck him through the anomaly and leave him to fend for himself had subsided to something Becker could manage.

“Help me up at least, will you?” Danny asked, stretching out his arm.

Becker clasped his hand and pulled him upright, Danny ending up crowded in against him, rather closer than Becker was comfortable with. Danny either had no concept of personal space or he just didn’t care. With Danny, it could have easily gone either way.

Danny’s eyes flickered downward and then back up. “Thanks for the hand.”

Becker’s fingers twitched and he walked away before the urge to shoot Danny in his smug, smirking face became too much to resist.

-

Sarah and Abby blindsided Becker in the corridor when he came out of the bathroom. Bugger, he couldn’t even go to the toilet in peace any more.

“Coming out with us tonight, Becker?” Sarah asked, tucking her arm through his. “We thought we’d try this new pub by Abby’s, the food’s supposed to be pretty good.”

“Well, I--”

“Come on, Becker, it’ll be fun,” Abby said and she took Becker’s other arm. He started to feel slightly claustrophobic. “Danny’s going,” she said, like that would be a point in their favour. “And Connor,” added as an afterthought.

“It doesn’t matter what I say, does it? You’ve already made up your minds that I’m going,” Becker said.

“I knew you were smarter than you look,” Sarah said, giving his arm a squeeze.

“Yes, thanks, that really makes me eager to spend more time with you.”

“You love us, don’t try to deny it,” Abby insisted and the girls both let go of him. “Meet us in the front in an hour, yeah?”

He gave them a wave and turned towards his office. He should probably finish writing up his report if he wasn’t going to be around, as he didn’t fancy hearing about it from Lester if he got it in late. For a moment Becker envied Lester-- he got to stay in the ARC, away from all the insanity, and yell at people whenever he wanted. Best of all, Becker highly doubted that Lester had anyone poking about in his business and pressuring him to go to pubs.

Then again, Lester’s job was sodding boring.

Becker made his way to the front of the ARC after he’d finished his work, but the only figure waiting there was Danny. That was… odd. A glimmer of a suspicion started to push to the forefront of Becker’s mind. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Looks like it’s just you and me, soldier boy.”

Becker forced himself to ignore that remark. Acknowledging it only made it worse. “But it was their idea.”

“Yeah, well, something came up.” Danny looked vaguely shifty.

“For all of them?” Becker gave his head a quick shake. “Do you ever get the feeling that our lives are being meddled with? That we’re being... set up or something?” It sounded silly to say it out loud, like he had wandered into a shitty romantic comedy.

Danny’s only response was one of his huge grins, the kind that showed all his teeth.

Suddenly everything seemed much clearer. “You’re in on it, aren’t you?”

If possible, Danny’s grin stretched even wider. “Who do you think put them up to it?”

“You’re an arsehole,” Becker said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Really, Becker, you should be thanking me. They had already decided that you needed a girlfriend-- or boyfriend, they were really leaning towards boyfriend. It was mostly Sarah’s doing, you know. You don’t want to know some of the possibilities they thought up.”

“So you, what, suggested yourself?”

“Out of the goodness of my heart.”

Becker rolled his eyes. “You’ll have to forgive me for not leaping at the chance to show my gratitude.”

“You really are a tight-arse, aren’t you? You need to loosen up a little.”

“And I suppose you’re just the person to help me do that?”

“Obviously.”

Why in the hell did the way Danny was smiling make Becker want to smile as well? That familiar urge to commit violence upon Danny’s person was still there, but it was sharing space with a strange desire to see what might happen if they tried this. Danny was annoying but he wasn’t such a bad bloke, all things considered. He was… well, fuck, he was just Danny.

And it had been far, far too long since Becker had got off with anything besides his own hand. “Hurry up and kiss me because your window of opportunity is rapidly closing.”

So Danny pressed up against him, all long limbs and lean runner’s muscles, and Becker was definitely not thinking about the intriguing possibility of what that body would be like in bed. They were pretty much of a height and Danny only had to just lean in and suddenly they were kissing. Danny kissed like he did everything else, throwing himself into it with abandon, and Becker thought, _Oh, this could be fun._

Maybe having a social life wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.

**_End_ **


End file.
